


Let Me Fix You

by touchmywingsDean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Sasstiel, Wing Kink, dean's rage pout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 13:38:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11556309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/touchmywingsDean/pseuds/touchmywingsDean
Summary: Cas loses patience and Dean's always ready to help. Awesomeness ensues.





	Let Me Fix You

The wind battered against the taped-up window, nearly tearing the makeshift pane Dean had made out of cardboard. Come on, Cas, where are you? He downed the last of the whiskey Sam had left him, and tugged his jacket tighter around him. Stupid storm. Stupid cold. Stupid abandoned house with no heat and gross blankets. Sam had taken Baby and the sleeping bags along with, and there was no way in Hell he was going to touch the pile of sodden refuse left by previous owners. He glared out the window at the dark rain beating down, and tried not to think of Castiel out in that weather.

:})

Castiel smacked his palm against the demon's forehead and put every ounce of crankiness he'd been suppressing into smiting the abomination down. Stupid earth. Stupid humans. Stupid boyfriend still thinks he's straight. He whirled around, trench coat flapping wetly in the rain, and burned out the other two demons that had been about to attack him. Can't even go home, stupid dysfunctional family. Now, alone in the stormy dark, he paused. I want Dean. Except Dean, in his endearing yet infuriating stubbornness, was still in denial. "I'm totally heterosexual" this, and "your social skills and refusal to respect my personal space are just angel awkwardness, Cas," that. Castiel growled in frustration and flapped his damaged wings in anger. "It doesn't make you gay," he huffed, "because I am A MULTIDIMENSIONAL WAVELENGTH OF CELESTIAL INTENT!"

"Cas, what the hell?!"

Castiel's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Dean on his feet in the middle of the room, and empty whiskey bottle in one hand and his gun in the other. He hadn't meant to transport himself to Dean, but evidently, he'd gotten carried away with his train of thought. The hunter was staring dumbly at something behind him, and he turned to see- oh shit. "I, uh...Didn't mean to bring my wings with me. I didn't intend to come here at all, actually, I just was a bit distracted and upset and apparently I, as you say, 'acted out.'" Dean didn't see his finger quotes since he was more focused on the black tousled wings spread out behind the angel, shadowed by a wing-shaped spray of mud on the wall behind him. He tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans and shook his head in amazement- Cas's wings were obviously in bad shape, feathers tangled and torn and heavy with rainwater and mud. Still though, seeing his angel's full wingspan was...incredible. My angel? Nu-uh. Nope. But...that can't be comfortable. He vaguely remembered a working sink, and he had a towel in his duffel bag.

"Uh, Cas," he interjected before the angel could put those beautiful wings away, "you want help cleaning up?" *Oh god. You idiot. Even he's going to be able to hear the gay in that.*

"It is of no consequence, I can rid myself of dirt instantly and groom later-" *Wait. This is an opportunity to have him touch you. A lot. Intimately. Backpedal immediately.* Castiel tilted his head back in Dean's direction with a sidelong glance. "-although it is quite difficult for me to do myself, and rather an extensive ordeal, so yes Dean I would appreciate the help."

Dean swallowed and nodded, ducking into the adjacent bathroom and getting his towel wet in the rusty sink. When he returned, Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed, which looked like he'd cleaned the bugs and dirt out of with heavenly grace. Briefly, it crossed Dean's mind to wonder why Cas couldn't clean himself up the same way, but once he got comfortable on the bed behind him and touched his wings for the first time, he stopped questioning this and just rolled with it. Cas's wings were the softest thing he'd ever felt underneath his fingertips, even though the feathers were mussed up and matted. Dean cleaned them carefully, wiping away every last speck of mud with his towel until they were clean. When he set about rearranging the feathers, he noticed that the angel seemed tense. "You okay there?"

You are a celestial being. You are impervious to sexual arousal. Castiel repeated his mantra of bullshit and suppressed another shiver. "F-fine Dean." He kept his voice as even as he could, but it wavered as Dean ran his fingers through another handful of feathers. "Some- places are more...sensitive than others."

Dean raised his eyebrows and looked down at Cas's wings as he combed down the length of the arches, and a shudder suddenly wracked the angel's body. "Shit, Cas, did I hurt you? Sorry, man." Worry turned to confusion at the whimper that escaped the other man. Wait, whimper? Yes, that was definitely what he'd heard- soft, low, but for sure a whimper. He sounds...turned on. He regarded the angel's tense shoulders, shaky breathing, the way he was sitting deliberately still, and realized that was exactly what he was seeing. Alright, if he likes this, I'll give him the best wing job he'll ever have.

Dean pressed his hands down deeper into the thick blanket of feathers, searching for any sweet spots that might drive his angel wild. Yahtzee, he grinned deviously when he came into contact with a ridge of bone that made Cas whimper again and spread his wings out farther. He worked that spot until Cas was shivering hard underneath him, and an unmistakable moan made its way out of his throat. "You like this, huh?", Dean couldn't resist taunting, and rubbed his fingers over a hollow he found for good measure. Evidently it struck something in Cas; the angel snapped upright and whined, arching into the touch and trembling down to his wingtips.

"Y-yes," he breathed, trying to muster up that deep angel voice that was so intimidating. "Grooming is a very- intimate act, among angels, and-" Holy Father, he hadn't expected this to feel so good. Dean shouldn't know how to do this, he shouldn't be this good at it.

Behind him, Dean was having trouble convincing himself why he was absolutely, 100 percent not turned on by this. He had his hands full of an angel's wings, and the angel was Cas, and Cas was completely freaking wrecked. He looked so damn gorgeous, head tilted back, eyes closed, his lips soft and slightly parted and screw it he was just going to go for it. He leaned forward, over the arch of Castiel's left wing, turned Cas's face back towards his and pressed their lips together.

 

Dean half expected Cas to pull away, or at least stiffen in surprise or something. Instead the angel turned towards him to deepen the kiss, and folded his wings around him. In the cocoon of Castiel's wings, the rain and thunder outside faded to a distant rumble, quieter than their own breathing. Cas had clearly never done this before; his lips were tense and dry and his hands were clumsy on Dean's back and arms and shoulders, grabbing at him as if he was afraid the taller man would change his mind. Which was absolutely ridiculous, Dean realized, because even if the angel wasn't exactly a pro, there was no way in hell he could just let this go.

Dean carded his fingers through Castiel's feathers, making the angel gasp into his mouth, relaxing just enough for Dean to nudge his mouth open with his own and sweep his tongue over Cas's lower lip. He swallowed up the whimper that escaped the smaller man and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on it a bit before releasing it. As he kept teasing the smaller downy feathers deep in Castiel's wings, he noticed that the angel got more agitated the closer he got to the joints where Cas's wings met his back. Smirking into the kiss, Dean suddenly brought his hands to the angel's back and rubbed down the joints, digging his fingertips into the hollow between his shoulder blades. The effect was immediate; Castiel let out a pleading nngh noise and practically went limp in Dean's arms, shaking and making soft needy sounds as Dean kept stroking all the right places at the base of his wings.

"Feels good, huh?", Dean muttered into the kiss, only to get a breathy "Dean..." in return when he pulled his hands away and let Cas fall back on the bed, moving to straddle him. That one word, that wrecked exhalation of his name from an angel's lips, made Dean want to ruin him for anybody else. He tangled his hands in Cas's wet disheveled hair and crushed his mouth to his, licking his mouth open and grinding his hips down into the younger man's. Cas moaned and bucked his hips up into the friction, barely able to think under all the foreign attention. A particularly rough tug to his hair pulled another moan from his throat, and Dean wondered if his pure-as-snow angel of the Lord might have a bit of a pain kink.

Dean rocked his hips down against Cas's, and Castiel tried to reciprocate the movement but was held down by the other man's weight. He didn't know what to do with his hands, what would be okay, and he'd spent so many months fantasizing about what Dean's mouth would taste like but now that he knew it wasn't nearly enough. This was killing him, and he suddenly turned his face away, only for Dean to press red-hot openmouthed kisses down his neck that set him on fire. "Come on, Dean, please..."

Dean's mouth was right next to his ear when he prodded, "Please, what?" His hot breath ruffled Castiel's hair, and the angel shivered hard.

"Teach me."

Dean propped himself up on his elbows to look down at the angel sprawled out beneath him. Did he have any idea how hot that was? Judging from the innocent but blazing eyes, the flushed pink blooming over his cheeks, the way he was biting his lip that was still wet with Dean's spit....no, he had no fucking clue. Which made some sick craving rear its head in Dean's stomach, the urge to take this angel and pull him down from the heavens, to make his place in Castiel's body and pound any thought for anyone else out of him, leaving only his name. He wanted to teach the angel every filthy, deranged act he knew, and convert him to hedonism completely.

He kissed him deeply, and his tongue was tangled with Cas's when he shoved his hand down Cas's pants and wrapped his hand around him. "Okay, sweetheart," he said over the angel's strained moan, "I'll teach you."


End file.
